


i feel too young to hold on (i'm much too old to break free and run)

by teamcap



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie POV, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, i've never done eddie pov before so sorry, uhhh idk what this is!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamcap/pseuds/teamcap
Summary: They keep going, walk so long Eddie doesn't think they'll ever stop. He has dried blood on his face and dirt under his fingernails and on his clothes and in his hair and everywhere else. He wants to turn around, go home, take a shower, especially wants to stop thinking about what Richie said. And then they're about to go down there, to face this fucking thing and maybe, hopefully, kill it. The problem, of course, is that Eddie can't. He can't go down there. He knows he's a danger to everyone else, they're at risk if he goes because he might not step in to save them if they need it. And then Richie's there again, swatting his inhaler away, not quite yelling, you're braver than you think, and what the fuck is Eddie supposed to do with that? He thanks Richie because he doesn't know what else to do, and when Richie pats the bandage directly over his stab wound, Eddie smiles despite himself.





	i feel too young to hold on (i'm much too old to break free and run)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission for my lovely mirbaba!! she asked for richie and eddie having a Moment and then some more stuff and i did my best. this is my first time writing from eddie's pov so i hope it's not too bad. enjoy!

_ I was just scared. _

Not was scared, Eddie is scared, he's fucking terrified, but he needs to tell Bill something. Have some reason that he didn't move, didn't get the knife, didn't try to save Richie. And it's not a lie, being scared. But  _ God, Eds, _ he thinks,  _ why didn't you just get the fucking knife, why didn't you help Richie, you're not helping anyone, you- _

"Eds?" It's Richie, of fucking course it's Richie, Richie who he almost killed. Eddie snaps out of it and looks around to find him, but he doesn't have to look far - Richie's standing in front of him, close but not directly. His hand is near Eddie's wrist, hovering, not quite touching. He realizes after a moment that nobody else is left in the room. 

"I was gonna let you die," Eddie says.

"On purpose? That's rude, Eddie. You wound me."

"Fuck off."

"Well, that fucking spider thing is gone, so it doesn't matter," Richie says, "but I think you could have stopped it."

"Are you trying to make me feel bad?" Eddie asks. "Because if you are it's working." He's hyper aware of Richie moving his hand away. He wishes he wasn't.

"No," Richie screws his eyes shut behind his glasses, then opens them like he has to look at Eddie to say whatever he's gonna say. "You - you could have stopped it. Like, maybe you don't feel like you could have, but you could have."

"I - what?"

"It's like, okay. Like when we did this before and you yelled at your mom and told her you knew your meds were all shit. You never thought you could do that, but you did, and you could have done this, too. You - you can do more than you give yourself credit for, I think," Richie says, all in one breath. He keeps his hands busy, one in his pocket and one adjusting his glasses, and Eddie knew Richie well enough when they were teenagers to know that's one of his nervous things. And that - that's too much for this room. Eddie looks towards the door, everyone else long gone, and Richie follows his eyes. "Let's go, come on, we're gonna lose them."

Everyone else is waiting for them, questioning them when they catch up, and Richie apologizes for both of them. He moves up a couple of paces, sticking next to Bev as they make their way through the house and down into the sewers and God, Eddie thinks, it's fucking disgusting and they're going to die and it's probably going to be his fault and he has no idea what Richie was talking about but he was wrong. Eddie knows he was, knows he can't do whatever it was Richie was talking about. He doesn't even know what Richie was talking about, what did that mean,  _ 'you can do more than you give yourself credit for',- _

"Eddie," Ben calls out, loud enough to get his attention. They're all at least fifteen feet ahead of him. Richie looks at him, through him, annoying as he is. "You good?"

"Fine," Eddie says, "sorry," and speeds up to catch up with them. They keep going, walk so long Eddie doesn't think they'll ever stop. He has dried blood on his face and dirt under his fingernails and on his clothes and in his hair and everywhere else. He wants to turn around, go home, take a shower, especially wants to stop thinking about what Richie said. And then they're about to go down there, to face this fucking thing and maybe, hopefully, kill it. The problem, of course, is that Eddie can't. He can't go down there. He knows he's a danger to everyone else, they're at risk if he goes because he might not step in to save them if they need it. And then Richie's there again, swatting his inhaler away, not quite yelling, you're braver than you think, and what the fuck is Eddie supposed to do with that? He thanks Richie because he doesn't know what else to do, and when Richie pats the bandage directly over his stab wound, Eddie smiles despite himself. 

They kill it. They actually kill it - Richie gets caught in the deadlights and Eddie, somehow, listens to Bev and impales the motherfucker and gets out of dodge before it kills him, and then they kill it. At the quarry, Eddie refuses to get in the water. He sits along the rocks and Richie sits with him, close. So close their knees touch. So close Eddie doesn't know what to do with himself. 

"I saw you," Richie says after a few minutes. Eddie doesn't look at him, looks at the ripples on the water instead. "In the fuckin' lights or whatever."

"Me?"

"Well, I mean, I saw everyone. It was weird because it was like, the exact same shit we'd already done. I saw all of it over again. But it got you. It was kind of like - you know those dreams when you feel like you're there but you're just watching whatever is going on? It felt like that. Because I watched myself get caught in the deadlights and then it got you and I couldn't do anything. I was just watching."

"Got me? What, like, in the deadlights?"

Richie shakes his head. "No. It got you like - killed you. And I couldn't do anything. But you did. Not in my vision or whatever, in real life, you did. You saved me. I told you."

"Rich-,"

"No, Eds, you did. I told you. Braver than you think," Richie says. His voice is soft and his leg is pressed against Eddie's, a point of contact. It makes Eddie feel like he's sixteen again.

"Richie, I don't know what that means," Eddie says. He takes a deep breath, does it all on his own like he couldn't years ago. "Thank you, I mean, but I don't know why you said that. All that, and the stuff before about me being able to do more than I give myself credit for? I appreciate it, but. I don't know why you said it."

"Just trying to lift your spirits," Richie says with a slight laugh, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Richie."

"Eddie," Richie mocks, and Eddie knocks their shoulders together.

"You're still so annoying," he says, and he sees Richie smile out of the corner of his eye. "I just don't think I should have gotten the only pep talk, y'know. I think we're all pretty goddamn brave given what we've been through."

"Not all of us," Richie says, "because, sure, I can help you guys fight a fucking demon monster clown from hell or whatever, but I'm still too chickenshit to tell you."

"Tell us what?" Eddie asks.

"You," Richie repeats, "tell  _ you _ ." Eddie almost understands, almost, has been trying to work it out in his head since Richie told him he can do more than he gives himself credit for. He waits. "I carved our initials onto the kissing bridge when we were thirteen."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Richie says, "oh."

"You've gotta give me more than that, Rich, I don't know what to do with that. You carved our initials onto the kissing bridge when we were thirteen, and?"

"And I recarved them when we were sixteen, and the day before I left for college, and I saw myself doing it again when it had me in those fuckin' lights. Because it's you, y'know? Always been you. I forgot you for twenty seven goddamn years and it's still you," he says, all in one breath again, like earlier. Eddie's mind is racing, going a million miles a minute. It's almost too much. Almost. And he can hear Richie in his head, you can do more than you give yourself credit for, you're braver than you think, and maybe he is. 

"Richie," he says, turning to look at him, and Richie does the same. Eddie leans in like he'd dreamed of doing when he was thirteen and fifteen and seventeen, puts one hand on Richie's cheek, and kisses him. There's no fireworks or whatever, and it's clumsy because Eddie's been kissing the same person for the last fifteen years, but he likes it. Kissing Richie makes him feel whole, solid, like everything they've gone through was actually real.

"You've been holding out on me, Eds," Richie says when they break apart, and Eddie laughs, really laughs, and the smile it puts on Richie's face is worth everything they've been through. 

"I hate you," Eddie says, but he doesn't. He looks over to where the others are, splashing in the water like they're teenagers again, and they can't go back, but Eddie doesn't care. The sun is shining on them, and Richie's hand settles over his, and he's alive.

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me on tumblr @ teamcaps! <3


End file.
